India’s sacred groves: how revering nature saves it

Folklore and beliefs have given tracts of forests a forcefield from human excess

Standing stones in front of the Mawphlang Sacred Forest, on a cloudy day in Meghalaya. Photo: Leslie Clary/Alamy Stock Photo

We often forget that humans are only one among millions of species—most of which we haven’t discovered yet. As much of the world went into pandemic-related lockdown in early 2020, we woke up to headlines of visibly cleaner water and air and photos of animals enjoying the hiatus from humans in cities and national parks. The planet will, in all probability, survive manmade climate change, but the question is: will we?

Species diversity is part of biodiversity—“the shimmering variety of life on earth” as conservation biologist Thomas Lovejoy defined the term in 1980. Whether it’s maintaining the diversity of species, ecosystems or genes, conserving biodiversity is key to ensuring a win-win for man vs nature. It’s actually been a human strategy for survival from pre-Vedic times, well before the United Nations began marking 22 May as The International Day of Biological Diversity.

For millennia, humans across the globe have marked out tracts of virgin forest as sacred groves. The ecosystems range from moist deciduous forest to desert scrub, and these groves are believed to be home to (or synonymous with) deities or ancestral spirits. Sacred groves find mention in Sanskrit scriptures and Greek epics. China’s feng shui forests were believed to improve the flow of qi (or life force). There are monastic forests protected by Italy’s Franciscans, Ethiopian Christians and Thailand’s Buddhists, and sacred groves maintained by urban Hindu families in Kerala, forest dwellers in Madhya Pradesh and Khasi tribes in Meghalaya. While the rules (and names) for sacred groves vary by culture, in general, a community may use a sacred grove for rituals to the presiding deity but they will never fell trees or kill its resident creatures for fear of divine retribution. Often, even deadwood is allowed to decompose on the forest floor instead of being collected for kindling.

The mouth of the Mawphlang Sacred Forest in Meghalaya. Photo: Salil Deshpande

Belief in sacred groves—and their physical boundaries—have shrunk worldwide with modern development, the displacement of indigenous peoples, the invasion of exotic weeds and the loss of traditional knowledge and beliefs. It is only recently that scientists are beginning to study the secular benefits of sacred groves.

Sacred groves are proving to be a shining example of traditional forest management. They serve as water catchments, harbouring a pond, lake or spring. “Water conservation is perhaps the most well-documented ecological service provided by sacred groves,” observe Rajasri Ray, MD Subhash Chandran and TV Ramachandra at the Centre for Ecological Sciences, Indian Institute of Science, Bengaluru. “Highland groves, for example the Western Ghats and the Himalayan region, are important for their soil and water conservation activities which are beneficial for local inhabitants in terms of less soil erosion, preventing flash flood, supply of water in lean season.” Research continues on the advantages for temperature control and fire resistance.

The desert groves of Rajasthan—think of the Bishnoi tribe’s orans—are “important livelihood support for local people,” add Ray, Chandran and Ramachandra. Studies in Northeast India and the Himalayas have supported the groves’ potential for nutrient cycling and carbon sequestration. In addition, “in Karnataka and Kerala, groves are supposed to provide nutrient-rich water to adjacent agricultural fields and spice gardens.”

India’s sacred groves—called devrai in Maharashtra, kavu in Kerala, sarna in Bihar, devarkan in Karnataka and khlaw kyntang in the Khasi Hills—haven’t been fully identified or inventoried. Preliminary research has found sacred groves to be the last refuge of endemic and rare, endangered or threatened fauna and flora, from medicinal herbs in Madhya Pradesh to the lion-tailed macaque in Karnataka, Malabar civet in Kerala, orchids in Andhra Pradesh and wild varieties of mango in Tamil Nadu. Local art forms flourish here too, such as the ritual dances of theyyam in Kerala and nagamandala in Karnataka.

While state laws are lax on the protection of sacred groves, there are hopeful signs. For a decade now, Kerala, which has thousands of sacred groves, has offered financial incentives to landowners to take conservation steps to maintain the sanctity of these tracts. Activists across India advocate the enforcement of the 2006 Forest Rights Act, which reinstates community rights to manage neighbouring forests. For 25 years, the Applied Environmental Research Foundation has worked with over a hundred villages in the northern Western Ghats to help restore and manage sacred groves, receiving the Whitley Associate Award in 2007. Bhopal museum Indira Gandhi Rashtriya Manav Sangrahalaya does its bit too, raising awareness with regular exhibitions on India’s sacred groves.

The Chipko movement of the 1970s, the nonviolent resistance by Himalayan villagers to prevent logging, had its roots in a Bishnoi resistance in 1730. In one day, 363 Bishnoi tribals offered their lives in exchange for the sacred khejri trees that the kingsmen came to cull for a new palace; both tribals and trees were felled. When the maharaja learned of the massacre the next day, he apologised and granted protection to the flora and fauna on their lands. A steep price to pay, but the Bishnoi continue to make headlines for putting their lives on the line rather than sacrificing nature. If we follow their lead and come together to protect and restore our ecosystems, we may yet slow down climate change.